


the knot

by limeli



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: ...just getting dressed and talking, Angst, Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Romance, and tying a tie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:07:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27946505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limeli/pseuds/limeli
Summary: “You look stunning,” Jean whispered on Armin’s ear, brushing some of the bright baby hairs nearby with the hand that did not adhere to his peer’s right hip. Immediately after complimenting the brain to his guts, he regretted it as teal made its way around his neck intoxicatingly.“Don’t be silly,” Armin whispered back, his cheeks betraying him opposite the officer. After noticing some air had caught up on Jean’s throat, he loosened the knot he had worked on and looked up at the taller man. “Just let me enjoy this.”
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 13
Kudos: 88





	the knot

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this made me feel so sad about literally a few frames of Jean Kirschstein in a suit. Well, the good thing is you can see the happy picture [here](https://twitter.com/1010arts/status/1335837287259594753). I love how Ten drew our Jean. ♡

“You aren’t going anywhere looking like that.”

Turning around to watch his reflection in the mirror, Jean tugged at the ends of his tie in frustration. With dark teal strands stretched around the nape of his neck, his hands held the diamond-shaped tips tightly as they danced on top of his half-buttoned shirt. So much for exploring like they had been promised in the Survey Corps.

Standing shyly near one of the corners of the rented room’s bed, he spotted the short, slender figure of his comrade. It could have been anyone, but there was no chance he would possibly mistake the way his voice sounded. While Jean’s honey eyes roamed around the room, temporarily adjusting to the kind of perfection they had already been accustomed to, he got a huff to make him focus. The other’s steps tapping over the wooden floor rhythmically, as if the pace of each had been planned by a music composer themselves, suddenly brought something up in the grown teenager he no longer felt. Watching the hand stretched just a few centimeters from him, the commanding officer stood straight, letting go of the accessory that hung like the thick ropes they used to train with back home.

“Levi _did_ train us for this, you know?” said the intruder, resting the offered hand on his bare chest. “Don’t let him realize you didn’t pay attention.”

“It should’ve fuckin’ been Mom teaching me.”

Getting the kindest, warmest look from orbs that seemed to capture every ocean wave, Jean sighed, suddenly feeling defeated by the other man’s _(Or boy’s? They didn’t have time to ponder about what life stage they were on.)_ gaze. After all, he was lucky to still have a mom – not many had one of those on their side of the world. Still, it was obvious that it was not the kind of topic to be tackled shallowly.

“May I?” came the request as pink lips pouted in his hands’ direction, signaling a problem that was yet to be solved.

“You may. Shit, Armin, how can you even master this? Is there anything you _can’t_ do?”

It seemed that the frustrated tone of voice coming out of Jean left his interlocutor feeling lightheaded. As the one by the mirror softened his grip on the necktie, he saw Armin in a situation he had never had the privilege of witnessing. He felt the cold touch of the other’s wrists on top of his now buttoned-up shirt, the soft skin of his teammate gently pressing itself against the wall that was the piece of fabric between them.

“You look stunning,” Jean whispered on Armin’s ear, brushing some of the bright baby hairs nearby with the hand that did not adhere to his peer’s right hip. Immediately after complimenting the brain to his guts, he regretted it as teal made its way around his neck intoxicatingly.

“Don’t be silly,” Armin whispered back, his cheeks betraying him opposite the officer. After noticing some air had caught up on Jean’s throat, he loosened the knot he had worked on and looked up at the taller man. “Just let me enjoy this.”

Although Jean did not see the particularity of tying knots, he let Armin be while his thin fingers straightened the shirt’s collar. As much as he did not like how tightly packed he felt in a suit, he made the most of the excuse that was having his tie tied by the man he liked. Jean had never been one to embrace the little things life gave him yet, recently, he had learned to hold on to tiny chances of getting some happiness back. The mission on foreign land was already gloomy enough to need a break, and he knew that both of them needed the softest tempers and events to happen more than anyone. They knew, after all, that cruelty was to unleash any second soon – be it mid-exploration or afterward.

“How do I look?” Jean asked, making a bad attempt at a sultry voice while he wiggled his eyebrows. When Armin’s breath caught in his chest, however, Jean’s eyes turned opaque at the seriousness embedded in the other man’s facial expression. There was no good type of being speechless as far as he was concerned. “Something wrong?”

“You look beautiful,” Armin muttered, a tinted-red button nose making way through blonde bangs. His voice had heightened at what seemed like a declaration of something they did not yet know for sure. Cringing a little bit at the simplistic wording of such a phrase, the shorter boy opted for clearing his throat with a faint sound.

Frozen in an already way too invaded square meter, Jean combed his hair with his hands, letting go of the most important piece of their, _his_ , puzzle. He felt something weird creep up his own cheeks, and he bit his lower lip just hard enough to feel it tingling. Despite he knew the effect he had around Armin, it was news to have him admit to it so openly and so _soon_. Jean had expected to build some kind of mutual relationship over time, for whatever lifetime remained in each of their cases was meant to be used wisely from his point of view. He knew they would not die so easily or suddenly. Armin had the colossal on his side, and Jean had the unfathomable strength of belonging to him. There was no way he would give up and die.

“Sorry, that was cheap,” Armin said after they spent a while in silence, Jean still digesting the words directed at him. Trying to distract himself from something that felt like _too soon_ , Armin had grabbed his charcoal waistcoat and toyed with it as he waited for an answer.

“Was it?” Jean asked, rhetorically so because he knew nothing about pick-up lines himself. “Come on. You’re telling that to someone who complimented your best friend’s hair _romantically_. You can’t get anywhere dumber than that.”

“Not the answer I wanted,” Armin looked down, trying to make himself feel at ease with the hurricane of emotions twisting beneath the layers of skin and bone that covered his fragile heart.

“But it’s the answer you get because this man is too stupid to think of anything smoother,” Jean pronounced each word too quickly for his own good, pinching his outer thigh to make sure he was not dreaming.

Wearing the waistcoat was not as much of a hardship as he had expected it to be. Since he used to wear similar clothes back at home, he did not feel the discomfort he had foreseen himself suffering from. Instead, it made him relax enough to work on his wrists’ buttons. Doing so, he felt some hair fall on his face, having slipped from his ears swiftly. Parting it to the side was still strange to him, but Sasha and Hange had told him it looked good on him enough times to convince him. Armin, surprisingly, had never made a comment on his physique until now.

“Armin, do you really think so?”

“You are beautiful, Jean,” the blonde boy assured him, nodding to emphasize the weight of his statement. “Always have been.”

“Pass me my jacket,” the commanding officer answered, taking the strands of ashy hair behind his ear for the umpteenth time in the week. Getting the navy-blue linen coat from a couple of pale hands, he put it on and watched himself look like the grown-up life that had been forced upon him. “You never fail.”

“Except I always do.”

“To win me over? To amaze me? Never.”

The tension between them could have been sensed by the most oblivious spirit, or Connie for that matter. Still standing just one step away from each other, Jean and Armin knew it only took the effort of moving one step forward. Nevertheless, as Armin covered the tip of the tie with the woolen waistcoat, none did. The slightest movement that escaped the dynamic of dressing the other would have been the boldest, and both knew that words were all they had to show.

“I master the art of tying neckties and bowties because Mother taught me,” Armin whispered, staring sideways to avoid the enormous amount of love Jean’s eyes expressed. Of all times, it would have been the greatest to move forward. “Dad never knew how, so we practiced with him. She said I would marry someday, and I would need to get my hands around a necktie when that happened. I’ve known how to do this, but never had someone be my subject of study again.”

“Are you planning to marry if we get this over with?”

“Who in their right minds would have a husband with an expiry date?”

Jean’s mouth ran dry at the other’s words being pronounced so naturally, so undeniably accurately. Taking the step forward, making himself comfortable with breaking the invisible boundary they had established in their dynamic, he breathed out while he stared at the room’s ceiling. Thirteen years did not sound like a long time at all – not long enough for everything that Armin was capable of. Letting himself fall in the deep blue eyes of his brain and heart, the taller man cupped the blonde’s fluffy cheek with his left hand and traced small circles with his thumb.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind having you tie my ties for the rest of your life,” Jean whispered, though it sounded like a whimper. Still disbelieving of the short period Armin would have left, he huffed, feeling desperate. “Mine is not the rightest of minds, don’t you think?”

Painfully slowly, Armin shook his head, his lips curling up a bit just to let him see. All the colors had vanished from his face, being replaced by the cold white that adorned his expression daily. However natural it felt to Jean to see Armin’s colors go back to what they usually were, something in him had changed. Pulling his arm away, he grabbed the hat that hung on one of the bed’s corners. Seeing fit in wearing it to their first tour around Marley, Jean adjusted it to a comfortable position before eyeing the shorter boy.

“Jean,” he heard him whisper, more to himself than as a proper response to his proposal. “I would never mind tying your ties for the rest of my life.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. This shortie was written while I listened to Birdy's _Blue Skies_. A masterpiece, really.


End file.
